


heart on your sleeve

by Lyasa



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Canon Compliant, Gen, M/M, depends on your interpretation!, except for the soulmate stuff obviously, is it platonic or romantic?, they are soulmates and that's all that matters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2018-08-04
Packaged: 2019-06-21 20:33:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15565881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyasa/pseuds/Lyasa
Summary: Soulmates are everyone's favorite topic in literature, but there are a few questions no book has an answer to.Such as: What if the limb you have your soulmark on gets amputated? What if you grow up with crippling abandonment issues? And what if both you and your soulmate get accidentally drafted into an intergalactic alien war?





	heart on your sleeve

**Author's Note:**

> Probably not the best thing I have ever written, definitely not the worst thing I have ever written.  
> Enjoy!

Fate works in ways that are difficult to understand, sometimes even incomprehensible. Two people constantly thrown against each other by the disturbed waves of destiny have a mark to show for their suffering. A gift, a promise from fate itself, that they will always, always find each other.

It's an immutable law of nature, across time and across universes. It's meant to be.

 

On February 29, in Kyoto, Shirogane Takashi is born. He has gray eyes, a few stray strands of black hair, and something very, very rare.

"He is very lucky," the nurse says, voice full of awe, as she hands him to his mother. "I've never seen one before." On his right forearm, there is a small but elaborate image: a lion, standing tall and proud, black as ink. A soulmark.

Every child knows what a soulmate is, growing up on fairytales filled with them, but so few have one. A soulmate is a rare treasure, someone who knows you more than you know yourself, someone you can always rely on. Soulmates can be siblings, lovers, friends, a parent and child, but enemies even. Only one thing is sure: time and time again, they will find each other. It's destiny.

Takashi grows up with the mark on his arm, a constant comforting knowledge that helps him through hard times. But sitting in a sterile, lifeless hospital room, staring at the motionless lion like it will tell him the secrets of the universe if he just tries hard enough, it's hard to believe all that could be true.

He hears the scrape of a chair being dragged over to him, but he pays it no mind, until he hears someone softly clearing their throat.

"Have you met them yet?" asks the Nice Doctor, as he has taken to calling her in his head. She probably told him her name, but he can't be blamed for not remembering it, not when he was just told what is potentially the worst news of his entire life.

"Met who?"

"Your soulmate," the doctor answers easily, and Takashi snatches his hand away like it was burned.

"No," he mutters.

"Takashi-"

"Shiro," he says stubbornly, because Takashi is for family, not- Not for doctors who just gave him the worst diagnosis. No matter how nice.

"Shiro then," and she just smiles. "C'mon, look here."

He does, and what he sees leaves him speechless. The doctor has her left palm open before him, and in it is the image of a tangled rosebush. It's entirely different from Shiro's monochrome lion, looking more like a watercolor painting than a tattoo, with splashes of pale pink and green. It's beautiful.

"Believe me, kid," the doctor says, "this is worth fighting for." Then she closes her fist and turns to him. "You still have over a decade to go before you start showing serious symptoms. You can do anything. Don't you dare give up on yourself, because one of these days, you are going to meet someone who will never give up on you."

Shiro looks at the floor, almost unnaturally shiny, and he sees his reflection there, all clenched fists and red-rimmed eyes. "I... want to go to space one day," he confesses in a whisper.

"Then you will," says the doctor, like it's just that easy, and maybe, Shiro thinks, looking at the regal black lion om his arm, maybe it  _can_  be that easy.

Someone who will never give up on him? Oh, he can't wait to meet them. In the meantime, though, he has to do their job: Believing in himself.

 

The Galaxy Garrison is an entirely new place, with new people, on a new continent, and Shiro has... actually never felt this sense of belonging anywhere else. In that pristine building he is Takashi Shirogane, ace pilot, and practically everyone knows his name. He has come so far from his lowest point, crying his eyes red in a hospital room.

And then, of course, there's Adam. He has never had anyone like Adam before, and he's doubting anyone like Adam exists at all. Because Adam is a singularly wonderful man, and if there is more than one such person out there, Shiro might just die.

This singularly wonderful man is right now lounging on the floor of the dorm, with papers haphazardly strewn around him. Shiro knows him well enough to categorize the look on his face as he stares up at the ceiling as the complicated emotion of "I should be doing something right now, but to be honest, I'd rather die."

"Adaaaaam," he calls out. "Didn't you want to make dinner?"

"I will, inshallah, once I'm done with this," Adam answers, in all his distracted glory, and Shiro frowns.

"Adam, I know that just means 'no chance in hell'."

"Well, if God wills it. And, oh, look! He doesn't will it. How sad." he says, with a shit-eating grin.

Shiro shrugs. "Alright then, I guess I'll have to make food myself..." It never fails to be funny how fast Adam abandons everything at that, whipping around in wide-eyed terror.

"Takashi..." he warns. Shiro taps his chin.

"Hmmm, I was thinking of something Japanese, I miss mom's food so much. We have rice, right?"

"Takashi!" Adam cries. "The last time you tried to make rice, we had to buy a new pot!"

"Practice makes perfect," Shiro makes a move towards the kitchen. Adam jumps after him, disturbing the careful mess he has made of the papers, and catches his wrist.

"Takashi,  _please_ -" he starts. Then he lets out a quiet gasp, and Shiro turns out to see what has got his boyfriend's attention. Oh. It's the soulmark.

Adam has known about the soulmark, of course, but knowing is different is different than seeing, and somehow he has never seen it in clear light.

"Wow," he whispers, awestruck just a little. "This really is beautiful." There are all kinds of things said about the beauty of soulmarks, and Adam is shocked to realize all of them are true.

"Thanks," says Shiro sheepishly, looking somewhere above Adam's head on the wall. "Wish I knew what it meant."

"Huh?"

"I mean, it's supposed to mean something important to you and your soulmate both. But I've never even seen a lion before, let alone a black one. Do black lions even exist?" Shiro is rambling, like he does so often when something is on his mind. Adam finds it unfairly endearing.

"I think they do," he says. "Who knows, maybe your soulmate is, I don't know, a zookeeper. And they're going to save you from a rampaging lion." Shiro snorts. Adam looks deep into his eyes and says "I can't wait to meet them," because it's an unspoken fact they both know, that Adam will be with him forever, and anyone who is important to Shiro is important to him as well.

Shiro offers him a soft smile. An unfairly attractive one, if anyone were to ask Adam. "Me too. I just wish it would be sooner."

Tomorrow, Shiro will dress up in his uniform, go recruiting around schools, and get his car stolen by a delinquent prodigy. Tomorrow. But not yet.

 

When Keith is born, he already has a head full of black hair, to the great surprise of his father.

"Is it normal for... you?" he asks.

"Yes, of course," his mother answers. "Why, are humans born bald?"

"Most of the time, yes."

"How strange," she mutters, and then lets out an exclamation, when something catches her eye. "Look, he's waiting for his other half!" On her newborn child's right arm, there is the image of a lion with its head held high.

Keith's father lets out a strangled noise. "Galra have marks too?"

"Of course," she answers easily. "Every intelligent species in the universe has them. Two people whose fate intertwines so often, it's so important, it simply cannot go unmarked." She looks at the child, and smiles. "Oh, you are destined for so much happiness," she whispers, words only meant for her son to hear.

But Keith grows up without a mother, without any knowledge of just how warmly she smiled at him, not knowing how much she loved, how much she still loves him, even lightyears away. Not knowing that she touched the mark, drew her fingers across the lines of that black lion, and knew exactly what it meant.

(When news of Voltron's return finally reaches Krolia in the middle of her mission, she closes her eyes and whispers one word: Keith.)

No, Keith grows up knowing exactly one thing: nothing good happens to him. Ever.

That wasn't always true, of course, but it's true now when he's sent from foster home to foster home, because no one wants to deal with the problem child, the kid that's too smart for his own good and too volatile.

He tries to behave, the first time. And then his foster mother finds his mom's knife, the only memory he has left of her, no, the only memory he has left of  _both_  of his parents now. His dad said "she gave it to you, because one day you might need it" and he would die before he gave it up to anyone. When he gets sent back, he has the knife at the bottom of his backpack again.

The point is, nothing good ever happens to Keith. There is no reason to think his soulmate could be different. With his luck, his soulmate will probably end up being his worst enemy, a sort of eternal nemesis, even if he has never heard of that happening outside of ancient Greek drama. (He has never heard of knives with glowing symbols on them either, but he still has one.) His soulmate is probably going to hate his guts, just like everyone else has, always. He knows this as surely as his own name, but still, he can't help but hope.

He always makes sure to have his mark covered, because none of his classmates or the other kids in the foster homes have a right to know, because it's something for him to see, only him and no one else. But sometimes he hides in a small and cramped space no one would look for him, and lets himself imagine a world where that lion means there really is someone out there, who would always stay by his side. Always and forever. He tries to hold onto it, that glimpse of happiness, but it slips through his fingers every time, and he is left standing in the dark, as alone as he's always been.

As a consequence, he later realizes, he doesn't know what to do when he meets someone who doesn't seem to hate him on principle, like they  _should_ , because he's the troubled kid, the problem child, and sooner or later everyone realizes that. Better it's sooner than later, that way they won't give him false hope.

It's probably this line of reasoning that leads him to steal the Garrison guy's car. Probably. In the heat of the moment, it doesn't exactly matter, nothing matters, just the exhilaration of speeding across the desert, blissfully alone. And somehow it works out, because the man ("Call me Shiro") smiles at him and shakes his head, like he simply refuses to see how Keith ruins everything he touches. Like he  _believes_  in Keith.

It's... nice. Keith doesn't think he's had anyone believe in him since his dad. He likes it.

 

Somehow Keith becomes a fixture in Shiro's life, because as much as he pushes people away, he's never quite managed to do the same with Shiro. Adam has gotten used to him quickly, and as much as he would never admit it, Shiro knows he likes Keith too.

"I can't believe we already adopted a child," he sighs one day. "What will my mother say when I get home with a son and still unmarried..." Shiro rolls his eyes, tamping down his reaction to the mention of marriage, because, well, he just might ask Adam one of these days. He has nothing to lose after all, and everything to gain from it.

"Keith's not that much younger than us," he points out. Adam shrugs.

"People used to think my cousin was my mother, and we have about the same number of years between us."

"Well, people can be idiots," Shiro says, and yawns. "I'm going for a run," he announces.

Adam arches an eyebrow. "At 10 PM?"

"It's the best time," Shiro laughs.

He loves being outside at night, the cold air filling his lungs, perfectly alone in the dark. Or at least, he thinks he is perfectly alone, until he quite literally trips over an unmoving figure sitting on the ground.

"Oh, sorry Shiro!" The figure apologizes.

"Keith?" Shiro asks, not as shocked as he would be if it was anyone else. "What are you doing here? How did you know it was me?"

"I'm watching the stars," Keith shrugs. "And I have good eyes." The only way anyone would be able to see in this darkness is if they had eyes like a cat, Shiro thinks, but he keeps it to himself. Instead of voicing the thought, he sits down right beside Keith.

"It always surprises me how clear the sky is out here," he tells Keith. "Before moving here, I've never seen the Milky Way with my own eyes."

Keith hums thoughtfully. He grew up right here, and he can't imagine what it must have been like, not having the stars as a constant companion. "Shiro?" he asks. "Do you think aliens exist?"

"Of course!" Shiro answers vehemently.

"Really?" Keith can't keep the curiosity out of his voice. He had no idea Shiro felt so strongly about this topic.

"Yeah," Shiro continues, more subdued. "There are so many galaxies out there, so many planets... Thinking we are the only ones is a little bit selfish, isn't it?"

"I guess it kind of is..."

They sit in silence for a while, lost in thought, then Shiro says softly "I always wanted to be the first person ever to see aliens."

"Good luck then." And Keith means it, because there is nothing Takashi Shirogane can't do if he puts his mind to it, and if he wants to meet aliens, then he will meet aliens, even if he has to bend the universe to his will for it.

 

Shiro gets the chance to go farther than any human has ever been, but his excitement over potentially meeting aliens is quickly overwritten by the bone-deep ache of loss.

"Fuck Adam," he says empathically, and probably more than a little bit drunk. Who cares. He's an adult, and he's gonna be dealing with his problems in an adult way, and if that adult way is drinking said problems away, then so be it!

"This is third time you've said that," Keith says, not even bothering to hide his amusement.

"Because it's truuuue," Shiro whines. "Fuck him," he adds once more, for good measure. Because really, fuck Adam, for making Shiro choose between him and his dreams, something he  _promised_  he would never do! Fuck him for the endless arguments, where he acted all worried for Shiro, clearly forgetting that he has had to live with this disease since forever, that he knows it better than anyone else.

Fuck Adam and fuck Shiro too, for still loving him.

"He knows how much this whole thing means to me," he laments. "That bastard."

"That bastard," Keith agrees.

Shiro pours himself another glass of wine, then freezes and looks at Keith.

"Do you want some?" he asks.

"Shiro, I'm seventeen," Keith answers patiently, the way one would talk to a child. Or a very drunk adult, Shiro supposes.

"Oh, so stealing my car is okay, but underage drinking is where you draw the line?" Shiro grins, remembering how they met. "Come on, a little wine has never hurt anyone!"

"Actually, I'm pretty sure it has," Keith grins back insolently. "The words 'alcohol poisoning' say something to you?"

"Don't sass me," Shiro shoots back.

"I sass who I want to," Keith shrugs. "Besides, you're being a terrible role model right now."

Shiro huffs. "I don't care right now." Maybe he  _is_  being a terrible role model, but it doesn't matter anyway, because despite Adam's frequent jokes about adopting Keith (and oh, how much it hurts that those jokes just  _assumed_  they'd have a life together, like it was the most obvious thing), he's not a child, he's almost an adult, and he's Shiro's friend first and foremost. Really, he's almost an adult. He's going to turn eighteen while Shiro's away on the mission. And Shiro's going to miss his birthday...

But Keith has assured him twice in this very conversation that it's fine, so he changes the topic to something else.

"Do you think I can find an alien boyfriend on Kerberos?"

Keith snorts. "You can do anything you put your mind to."

"Thanks," Shiro says, deep in his thoughts. "Hey Keith, do you think aliens have lions?"

Keith raises his eyebrows almost inhumanly high. "Lions? I don't know, why would-" and then he looks at Shiro's right hand, where the sleeve has ridden up to reveal a very familiar mark, and he feels the blood turn into ice in his veins.

It's there, clear as day, inky black on pale skin; a lion. A fact that can't be denied. Shiro is his soulmate. He feels like the whole world has frozen, and it's like his own soulmark is burning his skin, burning through his clothes, burning him up whole, until there will be nothing left but ashes.

What does he do now? Should he just... blurt it out?  _Hey Shiro, you're my soulmate_ , right now, when he's so hurt already? No. No, he's not going to be Keith the troublemaker, he's not going to- He's not going to ruin this. He  _will_  tell Shiro, sure, but he will do so at a better time. After he comes back from Kerberos. Yes, after he comes back, Keith repeats to himself, finally feeling like he can breathe again.

Because of course it's Shiro, who else would it be? Who else has ever believed in him, has ever been there for him when no one else was? No one else would have done half of what Shiro has done, just out of the kindness of his heart. Keith doesn't deserve this man, no matter what fate or the universe says.

"Keith?" Shiro questions. "Are you okay? You got so quiet all of a sudden."

Keith swallows. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Don't worry."

"Oh. Are you sure? Is it... Are you sure you're not mad I can't be here for your birthday?"

Keith has to laugh at the earnest way he asks, like he would ever hold it against him. "Of course it is! Come one, Shiro! Just come back, and it'll be all fine." Come back and I'll have something to tell you, he adds silently.

"Alright," Shiro lifts his glass to his lips with a smile. "I will, I promise."

Months later, Keith will hear the words "pilot error" and feel like his whole life has just collapsed on him in a matter of seconds.

Shiro will not come back.

 

Without Shiro's tempering influence, Keith gets kicked out of the Garrison. He doesn't care. He can't really find it in himself to care about anything, but Shiro, Shiro, Shiro.

He knows Shiro is not dead, knows it as surely as he knows  _he's_  not dead. Shiro has to be alive, because Keith hasn't told him yet, about- He has to be alive, because Keith has no idea what the lion means. Still...

_I should've told him_ , he thinks miserably, laying on the hard ground behind the shack he spent his childhood in. _I should have._ Now he has no idea where Shiro could possibly be, lost far away, among the stars. Pilot error... There's no way it was pilot error. (Maybe it was aliens after all.)

He lives like that, from day to day, in the scorching heat of the desert, thinking of nothing but the stars, and that strange feeling that calls to him from somewhere, that reverberates deep inside his chest. He finds that feeling in the oddest places, near strange cliffs, empty caves and endless sand dunes.

He dedicates himself to this search, every sleepless night, every empty day. Slowly but surely, he fills a wall with notes of this strange energy and the cave carvings he finds along the way. And... other things too. Memories of Shiro, scrawled hastily on post-it notes. (It's killing me when you're away...)

About two weeks after Shiro should have returned, Keith finds something different in a cave among the other carvings. It's a lion. A lion that looks so familiar, an image that was seared into his brain since he was born.

"Shiro," he whispers reverently, reaching out to touch the cool stone, tears prickling at his eyes. "Shiro..." It's a broken sound, but it's the sound of a man who thought he has lost everything, finally finding something to hold onto.

He throws himself into the search with renewed energy, now that he knows it will lead him to Shiro somehow, eventually. He knows it was all worth it, when finally, finally, almost a year after he went missing, he sees Shiro once again.

He has changed, he has a shock of white hair, a scar across his nose bridge, and a lot of memories missing, but none of that matters when he looks up and whispers "Keith?"

(He is missing an arm too.)

(His right arm.)

(That one... maybe that one  _does_  matter.)

 

Shiro has been having a pretty constantly terrible time, to be honest, what with escaping aliens, meeting other aliens (it's really not as great as he thought it would be), and somehow becoming the defenders of the universe with big robot lions. Yeah, it turns out aliens do have lions. Color-coded big robot lions. One of them is black. And of course it's destined for him.

He is staring at the lion and his fingers are inching towards his right forearm, but all he touches is cold steel, and suddenly he really wants to cry. Of all the things the Galra could have taken from him, why did it have to be this one? Was it a deliberate choice to break his morale? Or was it necessary? He doesn't know, doesn't remember, and it's tearing him apart. He's not even sure if he really wants to know.

Keith has been treating him differently. No, that's not exactly right. Keith has been treating him more or less the same way, regardless of how much they have both changed, but sometimes Shiro catches him looking at his metal arm with an indecipherable expression.

"I hate it too," he confesses once and Keith almost jumps.

"Hate what?"

"This arm," he raises it to demonstrate and Keith's eyes track every moment. "It's just... a constant reminder of everything."

"I..." Keith swallows. "Yeah. I wish you- I wish it never had to happen to you."

"You have no idea how much I feel the same." Shiro is exhausted, and he really, truly just wants to go home. When can he finally see Earth again?

No before meeting his soulmate, for sure. Because his fate is intertwined with Voltron now, and so is his soulmate's. His soulmate, who could even be an alien, apparently, because soulmates are not restricted only to humans.

His soulmate, will have a mark on their hand while Shiro has nothing anymore. Will they even trust what he says? They would probably think it a little too convenient that he claims to have had a soulmark on the same arm he got amputated.

"God," he groans. "Fuck."

Keith smiles at the non-sequitur and leans against the wall. "Do you want some nunvil?" he teases.

"You know what," Shiro concedes, "maybe I do." Time to indulge in the good adult tradition of getting shitfaced in order to avoid your problems.

Who knows, maybe it will even work this time.

 

Crash landing on an alien planet with a glowing wound that's getting bigger all the time is not even the worst thing that has ever happened to Shiro, which is in itself a pretty terrible thing. In circumstances like this, he is definitely allowed a little bit of black humor, because it's kind of hard to concentrate on anything else than his probably-imminent demise.

"Stop saying things like that," Keith hisses. "You're not going to die! You're not allowed to die, you hear that?"

Yes, alright, Shiro knows he's not going to die. Or he's pretty sure at least. He hasn't met anyone who seems to be his soulmate yet, and it's definitely a rule that soulmates  _have to_ meet and can't just die before even having a chance to talk. Right? It's absolutely a rule. And he hasn't met anyone yet who finds Black as important as he does. Except for Zarkon, of course.

Wait.

"Holy fuck," he whispers, with feeling. Keith is immediately at his side, concern etched clearly on his features.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes, yes, I just... accidentally touched the wound," Shiro lies, suddenly very distracted. There is no way in hell Zarkon could be his soulmate. No. That is a ridiculous idea not even worth considering. He feels nauseous just thinking about it.

But. But what if.

It's a literature trope, originating from the ancient Greeks, having the two soulmates as nemeses destined to hate each other, meeting only on the battlefield over and over again and- And Shiro's life has been pretty fiction-like lately.

But Zarkon is  _ten thousand_  years old, and soulmates are supposed to know each other for most of their lives. And it's not like they have anything in common besides the Black Lion, and there is no way, simply no way this could be true. Shiro feels ridiculous even contemplating it. It must be the delirium talking.

"I think," he says loudly, "I think I'm going to sleep now." Really,  _Zarkon? Really?_ "I- I really need that sleep."

"Yeah, you really do," Keith says softly. "I'll keep watch."

Shiro looks so peaceful when he's asleep. So peaceful and so alive. Keith sighs and brings his hands together, staring at his arm, right where he knows there is an image of a lion under the paladin armor.

Shiro can't die. If he ever did, Keith would go to the afterlife himself and bring his soul back with only his own two hands. The difference between him and Orpheus is that he would succeed.

But all his talk about leading Voltron has awakened a very real fear in Keith. He has the Red Lion and Shiro has the Black Lion, because each paladin is bonded to one lion only. Then... Then why does Keith have the Black Lion staring back at him from his right arm? Why did Black let him pilot her?

It points to one answer so horrible, Keith refuses to entertain it: Shiro dies. Shiro dies and Keith will take on his role, take on Black in his memory. And that's how their fates will both be intertwined with Black, that is what the mark means.

Just the thought makes Keith feel sick. He can't live without Shiro, he doesn't want to! His only real friend, the only one he could call family... He can't bury family once again.

_Tell him,_ a part of his brain whispers.  _You should have told him when you found him, you should have told him long ago! Enough of the excuses!_

Yes, maybe he should have told Shiro, but every time he tried - and he tried so often - the words just refused to come. Shiro has so much on his plate already, he doesn't want to add to it. He will tell him when they have no more enemies to fight and no more near-death situations, just the two of them.

He will tell Shiro. Later. Until then, he will watch over him, so peaceful in sleep, and wait for a rescue.

 

Keith has been thinking a lot about his mother ever since he met Ulaz. No, that's not entirely true. Keith has been thinking a lot about his mother ever since he put his hand on a Galra scanner in the heat of the moment, and it let him through.

He tried to ignore it at first, but the more he thought about it, the more sense it made. He sees better in the dark than anyone else he has ever met. His father had always refused to take him to see a doctor when he was still alive, and the mandatory check-ups at school always left all the doctors confused and muttering to themselves.

But the biggest hint was the knife, the only thing he has left from his mother. The knife with the glowing symbol on its hilt, the same symbol these Galra are carrying on their blades. The same knife he is being accused of stealing.

I  _wish_  I had stolen it, he thinks bitterly. Then he wouldn't be in this horrible situation of doubting everything about himself, the person he thought he was. Because who is he really if he's Galra? (Who is his mother...?)

"I didn't- I didn't steal it," he pants. "I've had it all my life. Shiro, you know me, you know I didn't steal it!"

But Shiro only answers him with a confused expression, eyes wide. "I- I don't know," he stammers, and that one sentence hurts Keith more than anything.

He agrees to the terms of fighting to keep the blade without a second thought, but he doesn't miss the worried look that flits over Shiro's face. He has to do this, though. He needs to.

When he finally gets to the end of the trial, bruised and battered, it's Shiro there, extending a hand towards him. Of course it's him. Who else would it be?

"You did it," he tells him. "You lasted longer than anyone before. Just give them the knife and we can get out of here."

"What?" Keith whispers. "No, I can't. You know how much this means to me."

"Keith," Shiro says, a warning in his voice. "Why are you obsessed with that thing? Just give it up! You're only thinking of yourself, as usual!" Every single word feels like a stab wound, hurts worse than all of Keith's injuries.

"Shiro," he wheezes. "Please..." Can't you see how unfair this is, he wants to yell. The same ultimatum Adam gave you! "Don't go! You are-" You are everything I have. You are my soulmate.

But the words don't come, and maybe it's all for the better, because Shiro simply turns his back on him and says "you've chosen to be alone."

"That's enough," Shiro hisses, the real Shiro, who has been watching his own hologram hit his best friend right where it hurts.

"He decides when he leaves," Kolivan says indifferently, as Keith's mindscape transforms into his childhood home.

"This is crazy! You're going to kill him!"

"Knowledge or death," Kolivan repeats.

Shiro clenches his fist. He is getting really tired of hearing this sentence. He watches Keith on the screen with bated breath, probably couldn't tear his eyes away if he wanted to.

"Come on Keith, come on," he whispers.

Then the Red Lion roars, and suddenly they have some other, very serious concerns.

Back towards the castle in the Red Lion, Keith keeps staring at his blade like it will bring clarity to his life, but his mind is on something else entirely. It wasn't actually Shiro who said all those things to him, who accused him of thinking only about himself, who left him. But it was the real Shiro who didn't trust him.

"Shiro?" he starts. Shiro hums attentively. "Why didn't you trust me when I said I didn't steal the knife?"

Shiro freezes, suddenly feeling very guilty. "Look, Keith, you know I would trust you with my life but... You don't exactly have a good track record with not stealing things."

"I- What?" Keith is at a loss for words. "That was years ago!" he exclaims, realizing the only thing Shiro could possibly mean.

"Yes, and it was my first impression of you! Look I really do trust you. Just..."

So this is where stealing Shiro's car came back to bite Keith in the ass... He knew it was going to happen one day. Keith can't help it, he starts laughing. He laughs until he can't breathe and has to wipe his tears away.

"I understand," he assures. "I wouldn't trust myself not to steal things either." It still hurts, just a little, but he has to admit, Shiro's right. It's still comforting to know Shiro _does_ trust him. Just not with this.

(Of course he trusts him. It's the way of things.)

 

Shiro is gone, gone, gone, and Keith will find him, comb the entire universe to bring him home, do anything he can. Expect one thing. This one thing.

"This is what Shiro wanted," he tells himself, looking up at Black. "Wants," he corrects, and that correction leaves him wanting nothing more than fall to his knees right there and turn into a crying mess.

He recalls being stranded on that planet together with shocking clarity, and this situation feels so much like his worst fear come true. Shiro is gone.

No matter how many times Keith says it, it still feels unreal.

He walks up to Black who acknowledges him with a flash of yellow eyes.

"Why me?" he asks, voice thick with emotion. He wants to scream it, but he can't find the energy for it, buried under so much lethargy.

Keith sits down in the cockpit, feeling like a ghost, an uninvited guest in a place he doesn't belong. It makes his skin crawl just how familiar this already is. He doesn't want to get used to this, he wants the status quo back, he wants Red back.

He wants Shiro back.

"Is this it?" he asks the empty cockpit. "Is this where it all lead to?" Is this where it really ends, all he has left of Shiro just memories and a mark on his skin?

He grabs at his arm right at the mark hiding under the jacket so harshly, it will definitely leave a bruise, but he doesn't care. It can't be the end.

"Shiro," he hiccups, wiping away the stray tears pricking at his eyes, threatening to drown him in sorrow. "You are everything to me. Please..." He should have told him... "I'll find you. I promise, I'll find you." And then he leans forward, finally giving in to his tears.

Like that, curled up on himself and sobbing, if even for just a moment, he can pretend Shiro is right there, with a hand on his shoulder, like he has been there for Keith so many times before.

He has no way of knowing Shiro really is right there, in some strange in-between plane of existence, watching him with sad eyes.

"Oh, Keith," he says-thinks-feels. "You can't find me. I'm dead."

He knows he died, but he doesn't exactly understand why he still... exists? Why he still exists then. Black says it's because they are bonded, and she simply couldn't let go of him.

Whatever it is, he has a duty to his team, to his friends, and he will watch over Keith even in death. He just wishes there was a way he could let Keith know he's here, that he can hear him.

(He wishes he didn't have to die before meeting his soulmate.)

(Sometimes... sometimes he wonder if never meeting his soulmate could mean he will not  _stay_  dead, that his clever friends will figure out something.)

(He knows it's more than unlikely, it's downright impossible, but he hopes.)

Even through being unable to comfort Keith in his grief, being tied to Black has the advantage of seeing Keith through every battle, and it's a palpable relief to know firsthand just how great at survival he is.

Unlike Shiro himself, apparently.

He doesn't expect Black to feel "something important" out in space in the middle of nowhere, but he is curious to see what it is.

He  _definitely_  doesn't expect it to be his own near-lifeless body in a spacecraft.

"That's not me," he says with mounting horror, and Black radiates confusion as she agrees. But neither of them can do a thing except watch Keith cry tears of relief over what he assumes to be his long-lost best friend, finally found.

 

Shiro has been settling in just fine, but he doesn't like not knowing things. Things like why he is missing memories again, or why Black wouldn't let him pilot her.

Keith doesn't like not knowing these things either.

"Do you still not remember anything?" he asks, for what is probably the tenth time.

Shiro shakes his head. "Not a thing. Still. Sorry." His memories prior to waking up captive once again are entirely nonexistent. He has no idea why the Galra would capture him again, or even how they got ahold of him from inside the Black Lion, and whenever he thinks too deeply about this, his head starts to hurt.

Keith slumps. "It's not your fault. Don't apologize." He's right, of course, but Shiro still feels terrible about not being able to answer Keith's questions.

"At least Black is no longer mad at me," he jokes, just to see Keith's expression soften a little bit.

"Right," he says. "I have no idea why she didn't let you pilot."

"As I said," Shiro shrugs, "probably mad at me for disappearing. Can't fault her for it."

Keith snorts. "I can understand her."

They sit in comfortable silence for a while. Keith is lost deep in thought, and Shiro tries to commit the lines of his face to memory, the way his forehead scrunches up when he is thinking.  _This,_ he tells himself,  _this is something no one can take away from you._

"Shiro?" Keith says, finally, and there is something terribly raw and vulnerable on his face.

"Yes?"

"I-" he swallows. "I missed you. I'm so glad you're here."

"Keith..." Shiro murmurs. "I'll never leave again. I promise."

Keith nods in quiet acceptance.

Later, he will tell himself, the reason he didn't say the words to Shiro, the reason he stopped just short of showing him the mark was because deep down, he already knew something was wrong. But he knows the real reason and it's nothing like that. It's cowardice, plain and simple. It has always been cowardice.

 

One year into Krolia's mission, and Keith is actually enjoying his time more than anything ever. The end of the mission is just a hazy suggestion on the horizon, and everything in the past, the fighting, the rush, the danger of being a paladin of Voltron, is beginning to blur into distant memory. The only thing that matters is the here and now, and he doesn't even have to worry about how his teammates are doing without him, because time passes differently there.

It's like a small piece of happiness carved out just for him and Krolia, the universe's atonement to him for having grown up without a mother; a year with just his mother. It's better than anything he could have imagined.

They are sitting around a bonfire, Keith, Krolia, and the wolf, who keeps trying to situate himself in Keith's lap, despite being too big to do that anymore. Krolia is telling a story, one of the millions of small moments between her and Keith's father. There are so many of them, she never runs out, even if half of them are told by the flashes of memories.

Keith isn't ashamed to admit, he did try to hate her first, a bit illogically maybe. But seeing the love clear in her eyes every time she looks at him makes it hard to feel any resentment.

Krolia reaches over to scratch the wolf at the ears, and her eye catches on something.

"Keith?"

"Yes-?" It's a bit awkward, not knowing if Keith should call her Krolia or mom, so he lets the end of the question hang in the air.

"I don't think I've seen your other half in the memories. Have you met them yet?"

"My- my what?" Keith asks, flabbergasted, though he has an idea of what it could mean.

"Your other half," Krolia repeats. "Your- the mark on your arm," she settles for that in the end.

"Oh," Keith says. "We call it a soulmate." Soulmates are like twin stars destined to orbit around each other, and he feels Shiro's absence every passing day like a black hole in his heart, the sole dark cloud on an otherwise sunny day.

"Soulmate..." Krolia looks pensive. "That's beautiful."

"And..." Keith lowers his head, stubbornly tracking the movement of his fingers on the wolf's soft blue fur. "You did see him. I told you about him. It's Shiro." 

"Really?" Krolia's eyes sparkle with delight. "Tell me everything!"

This must be what it's like to have a mother, Keith reflects. Wanting to share everything with her, while at the same time being afraid of disappointing her. And disappointing is the only thing he will do in this conversation...

"There isn't much to tell," he shrugs, forcedly casual. "He doesn't even know." This part is barely a whisper, but Galra have better hearing than he's used to, and Krolia pounces on the information like a lioness on her prey.

"What?" she exclaims. "What do you mean he doesn't know? Why doesn't he know?"

"I didn't tell him," Keith answers, feeling very childish all of a sudden. "Didn't want to bother him with it." The excuse falls flat even to his own ears.

Krolia raises an eyebrow. "Bother him with it? Keith, he's your... what did you call it? Soulmate. He's your other half!"

Here, in the middle of the Quantum Abyss, beside the soft light of the crackling fire, a year removed from all his worries, Keith can finally admit one thing: "Yeah, it's pretty stupid. I was being pretty stupid."

Krolia smiles. "I've seen him in your memories. He loves you, he would clearly do anything for you. You should tell him as soon as you get the chance."

"I will," Keith promises, and he actually means it this time. No more cowardice, no more false excuses. He has nothing to lose and he knows it. "I love him too."

He means to tell Shiro as soon as he gets back, he really does. But fate - and a witch named Haggar - have other plans for him.

 

Having two sets of memories in your head is actually not as complicated as everyone thinks. Shiro simply remembers things as if he was in two places at once, both in the Black Lion and outside it, because as strange as it is, both of them were Shiro, and the memories integrated seamlessly. There was no real Shiro, not really, just two people with the same life experiences and the same emotions. In the end, they were the same in all that matters.

Not everything about this is easy, though. He has to get used to both having a physical form again and, at the same time not having an arm, not even a metal one. While the prosthetic wasn't his favorite thing, it greatly lessened the phantom pain somehow. (Maybe it was something about having the technology integrated with the nerves? He knows a few people back home who would be really interested in it.) Now, every time he tries to clutch at his arm to make the pain stop, he only touches air, and that seems to make it even worse. The reality of  _missing an entire arm_  has never hit him quite like this before.

Except for the time he realized it meant he doesn't have his soulmark anymore...

Shiro sighs and runs a hand down his face. His only hand. God, he really needs the only constant in his life, the only way he can make sense of his senseless, jumbled emotions. He really needs to talk to Keith.

Shiro finds him not far from the Black Lion, sitting in the sparse red-and-yellow vegetation of this nameless planet they made their stop on. He's obviously just finished training, still a little short of breath, pushing sweat-slicked hair back from his face. He's also wearing only a tank top, which shouldn't feel strange but it does. Shiro can't remember ever seeing him without his signature red jacket, or more recently, the Marmora suit.

Shiro mentally commends him for making the effort to stay in shape. He can't quite bring himself to do the same yet.

"Hey Keith," he greets with a lazy smile. Keith looks up sharply, and Shiro's eye catches on the angry red scar on the side of his face, the one he still feels horribly guilty about. "Training by yourself? You could've called me. I really need the practice with... This," he frowns, waving his left hand.

Keith makes an aborted movement somewhere between a shrug and a nod. "I just wanted to be alone a little. But I was going to go find you right after I was done. Seems like you found me first." His smile is just on this side of self-conscious, and what Shiro wouldn't give to know what's going on in his head...

He offers Keith a hand to pull him up from the ground, and it's gladly accepted.

"I wanted to talk," Keith says carefully. Shiro makes a strangled noise. "Shiro, are you alright?"

No. No, he's absolutely not alright, and now he's definitely sure he's never seen Keith without a jacket before, as weird as that is. He would have remembered it.

On Keith's right forearm there is a stylized image of what Shiro easily recognizes now as representing Black. The same image that once adorned his own right arm. Somehow he's less shocked by this fact than he thought at first.

Who else could it been than Keith? Who else has always been beside him, a constant he could depend on? Who saved him from certain death numerous times?

("As many times as it takes.")

Who found a way to bring him back from the  _dead?_

It's Keith. It has always been Keith.

("You're my brother.  _I love you._ )

He feels like, on some subconscious level he's always known. He never speculated about the identity of his soulmate - except for that brief horror-struck moment he honestly thought it was Zarkon, which he still blames the blood loss for - because the most obvious candidate has been there before his eyes the whole time. Who else if not Keith? They both pilot Black! It's like his brain is just now catching up to what his heart has known all this time.

"Keith," he says, voice cracking. He swallows, tries again. "I- I used to have a mark just like that." He holds onto Keith like he's the only thing preventing Shiro from drowning. "On my right arm." But he doesn't have his right arm anymore, it occurs to him. He has no way of proving he's telling the truth. What if Keith doesn't believe him?

Keith just takes a long look at him, at their clasped hands, and says "I know. That's what I wanted to talk about."

"Y-you know?" Shiro stammers. "Since when?"

"Right before you left for Kerberos. Wait!" he insists when Shiro opens his mouth to ask. "I didn't tell you because- I was afraid and kind of an idiot and... I have abandonment issues?" His voice is barely a mutter when he finishes, and Shiro feels like he wasn't supposed to hear at least half of that, but he did.

There is really nothing else he can do as an answer but pull him into a one-armed embrace that Keith gladly accepts, lacing his fingers together on the back of Shiro's neck.

"I love you," Shiro whispers, and Keith's breath hitches. He takes a step back and looks Shiro directly in the eye.

"I know." A beat. "You nerd," he adds as an afterthought.

Here they are, on a nameless alien planet, farther from Earth than they ever thought possible... And Keith is quoting classic sci-fi at him, looking unbelievably pleased with himself. Shiro can't help but laugh.

Ten minutes or so later they are still sitting on the dry yellow grass, neither of them having made an effort to get up.

"I hate this," Shiro confesses quietly, out of the blue. "Not having an arm," he clarifies. "And it's not even the arm I miss the most."

"The mark?" Keith asks, with understanding compassion.

"Yes," he nods. "It was always there for me, it was what made really want to  _live_  through the endless hospital visits, and then it was suddenly... not. That hurt more than the phantom pain," he gives a small, uneasy laugh. He looks up at Keith, who is absorbed in his thoughts, with a glimmer of an idea in his eyes.

"Wait here, I'll be right back!" Keith sprints away, and Shiro follows him slowly, despite the hasty order, a small smile playing on his lips. He catches up to him near the Green Lion, begging a very irate Pidge for something.

"Come on, Pidge!" He taps his feet impatiently. "You don't need it for anything right now!"

Pidge narrows her eyes. "Well what would  _you_  need it for?"

" _Please_ , Pidge! I'll give it back to you when I'm done!"

"You better," Pidge sighs."It's not like I can just go buy another one at the next space mall. I mean I could, but I don't know where the next space mall is!" 

"Thank you," Keith turns on his heel. "I'll protect it like my own life, I promise!"

"That means nothing coming from you!" Pidge shouts after him.

Shiro can see him smother a self-satisfied grin as he approaches.

"What was that for?" he asks. As an answer Keith victoriously brandishes a... "A marker?" Shiro blinks. "Why does Pidge have one?"

"Sometimes computers aren't enough and you need to get old-fashioned with a sharpie and a lot of post-it notes. Or at least that's what she says," Keith shrugs. "Now, give me your hand."

"My-? Oh!" Shiro exclaims, finally realizing what Keith had in mind. He watches with wide eyes as Keith gets to work.

He draws like he's practiced this a hundred times before. The lines at first, the lion's profile as she holds her head proudly, the front legs, and then the back legs with the tail curling around them. He frowns absently as he concentrates on coloring the shapes a uniform black, and he doesn't make one mistake.

He takes a step back to survey the final result: A mark exactly like his own, right down to the whiskers. "I used to draw this all the time," he admits. "Just for myself. I know it's not the same, but it's something, right?"

Shiro can't tear his eyes away from his arm. "You're amazing," he blurts out, in awe. "You're wonderful. God, what did i do to deserve you?"

 

The next morning Shiro wakes up early. The alien sun shrouds the planet in a deep shade of golden-orange as he makes his way to a small creek.

He misses the Castle so much, not just because of the sentimental value, but because of the functioning showers too. Trying to clean yourself in a river is such a hassle, especially when you only have one arm.

He sticks his hand in the water and then he frowns. Pidge's marker is not waterproof. Keith stained his hands while he concentrated on drawing, and it dissolved in the water immediately, leaving only a few trails of black. But when he pulls his hand out of the water it runs down on his hands in little, clear rivulets.

He turns his hand. The drawing of the lion is still untouched, proud with her head held high.

Fate works in ways that are difficult to understand, sometimes even incomprehensible. But a promise is a promise, and a gift cannot be taken away.

The lion on Shiro's left hand stays there all his life.


End file.
